Fleeting Glimses and a Few Encounters
by AmberBrightEyes
Summary: Follow Ashling through a few short oneshots of her encounters with Peter Pan throughout her life. From childhood, to motherhood, to a grandmother. And always in the springtime.


Fleeting Glimpses and a Few Encounters

**This story leapt out of my imagining yesterday and just had to be written down. It's not as good as my other ones, so reviews would be appreciated guys. Enjoy.**

**Disclaimer: Anything you recognise is J M Barrie's. Anything you don't is mine :).**

I remember the first time I ever saw Peter Pan. I was looking through the wooden bars of my cot and out of the window. A huge leafy oak tree grew out in the yard right outside, with the bright green leaves that mark early springtime. Always spring and always trees. I remember being mesmerised by the green and gold sparkles made by the sun shining through the leaves. I was reaching up to try and touch the sparkles, but they were too far away. Then I heard the music; lilting pipes and silvery bells. It flits in and out of my dreams to this day. A boy glided silently through the window into my room, followed by a glowing sparkle of light that the bell music came from. The boy was all green and gold and looked like he had come straight out of the oak tree as he was dressed all in leaves and acorns. He hovered over the edge of my cot as the gold sparkle flew round and round, never stopping. His eyes were as green as the leaves he wore. He reached one hand down and touched a finger against one of my outstretched hands. I remember giggling and grabbing onto his finger with one hand and snatching an acorn button of his shirt with the other. I still have the acorn. There was the sound of footsteps as my mother came up the stairs. I looked toward the sound and then the boy jumped into the air and flew back out the window. I started crying. My mother told me when I was much older that I spent a lot of my time in my cot stretching my hands toward the window and the sun. And I cried whenever she tried to take the acorn off me.

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I was older when I saw him next. It wasn't long after my sixth birthday and I was swinging on the swings in the playground at school. At the highest peak of the swing I would always let go and go sailing through the air, flying for a few precious seconds before landing with a thump and a roll. On this particular occasion I was swinging higher than I ever had before. I had no fear, all I remember was the exhilarating adrenaline rush as I let go at went tumbling through the air, landing with a thump on my back under a tree and knocking my head against the ground. The wind was knocked out of me, so I lay there gasping and dazed with the sunlight in my eyes filtered through the leaves of the tree. He was hovering in the topmost branches, the little ball of twinkling light flitting around his head. I stretched my hand toward him. I thought he was an angel or spirit and I was dying since I couldn't breathe. Then my vision was obscured by a teacher as they picked me up and raced me to the sick bay. I tried to tell them about the flying boy in the tree, but no-one would listen, no-one believed me. They it down to me hitting my head and imagining things. So I tried to tell my class mates. Even they didn't believe me. Except one. A quiet boy called Finn in my reading group that had reddy brown hair that always fell into his grey eyes. He said he had been watching me swing, saw me fall and saw me stretch my hand up at the tree. So he looked as well and saw the boy all dressed in green flying in the top branches of the tree. I showed him my acorn button. We have been best friends ever since.

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By the time we were 14, me and Finn had read the book hundreds of times, seen the movie even more and had known our flying boy was in fact Peter Pan and the twinkling light was a fairy called Tinkerbell. I had grown from a fearless, quiet, swing-mad child into a quieter, clumsier and slightly rebellious dreamer of a teenager. Finn was louder, but remained a deep thinker that off set his dry sense of humour nicely. Unfortunately for him and my family, my sense of humour was more sarcasm based, although I maintain to this day that I was witty and never nasty. Me and Finn were inseparable. He was my staunch supporter. I needed one as well, as I had a developed a fierce hatred against bullies and proceeded to defend anyone who was ever picked on by anyone else. This resulted in a lot of fights. Served them right for trying to pick on me when I was younger because I believed in Peter Pan. Served them right for teasing me and Finn about being best friends. No-one tried it any more though. Finn came good naturedly along for the ride and kept my out of my dream state and bully bashing by making me laugh and doing all sorts of random activities; from tree climbing to swinging, skateboarding to swimming in the river at the bottom of our yard. On this particular day we were walking home from school. I was gazing up through the tree lined street at the clouds, not really paying much attention to where I was going. Me and Finn were talking about the Ancient Egyptians we had learnt about today and wondering if magic and unexplained stuff happened more often back then or if people just didn't notice or believe in it much anymore. We were quite partial to the latter explanation. Every now and then Finn would grab my arm and steer me out of the way of a tree root or crack in the path, but then he ended up staring at the sky as well so we wandered aimlessly down the road paying no attention at all to where we were going. That was when we saw a flash of green streak across the sky. This coincided with us tripping over a tree root and landing painfully on our hands and knees, staring at each other, then back up at trees. There he was again. Peter Pan and his fairy Tinkerbell hovering in the tree tops. Unlike me, he hadn't grown up at all. I was around the same age as he was now. My hand went to the right pocket of my jeans where the acorn was. I clutched it and held it up so he could see it and know it was me. Finn grabbed my other hand and squeezed it hard, partly to reassure himself this was really happening I think. I hoped Peter remembered, the book said he had a terrible memory. To my relief, he grinned an entirely charming and ridiculously cocky grin and began to descend with Tink in tow. A car chose this moment to hoon past in a blast of fumes, honking its horn and scaring the life out of me and Finn. By the time we looked back up at the tree Peter was gone. I looked at Finn, close to tears. He took one look at me then pulled me into a tight hug. When we let go we were standing so close I could see the faint gold specks in Finn's eyes. At that moment, something between us changed. We were still best friends, but now we knew there was the possibility of something more beyond that. Hand in hand we walked back to my place in silence, both lost in thought about Peter, fairies, magic and odd new emotions.

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It was years before I saw Peter again. I was in University studying Ancient History and Archaeology. The past and all things ancient had fascinated me long before I learnt about the Ancient Egyptians that day years ago. Finn was here with me as well, but he was doing English a bit of Sociology as people had always fascinated him. Probably he put up with me for so long. My fighting days are behind me, I'm less serious and I wear a lot less black than I used to; although I still can't bring myself to wear any shoes other than my Converse Chuck Taylors. I still trip over while looking at the clouds, still spend most of my time reading and dreaming and still carry the acorn with me everywhere. Finn's hair still fell into his eyes and he still told the driest jokes that made me laugh as much as they ever did. Since we finished school he held himself with more confidence and smiled the crooked smile I love so much more than ever. The last few years had been eventful for us to say the least. At 15 the rest of the female population at our high school realised what I had known since I was 6 years old. Finn was good looking, nice, intelligent and had a wicked sense of humour. This made him hot property and he spent the next two years fending off, and occasionally going out with, giggling girls. What I wasn't prepared for was that I had my fair share of admirers. Apparently I had the mysterious, quiet girl demeanour going for me one of my few girl friends told me. So I too went out with a few people. What frustrated whoever we were with was that me and Finn were always each other's top priority. Mates before dates I suppose. It wasn't until we were in our last year of high school we finally got it together and accepted what we discovered that fateful afternoon. It was each other we wanted and needed. And we have been together ever since. But I digress. Back to Peter.  
I was lazing under one of the many oak trees in the park opposite the Uni campus trying to translate some hieroglyphs. To no avail. The sun was setting and nobody else was anywhere near me. I gave up and lay back on the grass with my hands behind my head and looked for pictures in the clouds and watched the sunset. Then I heard a pan pipe and twinkling bells. I didn't move a muscle. I remember being scared that it would turn out to be my imagination or that I was dreaming. But there he was. Flitting from tree to tree followed by a darting golden light was Peter Pan. He was still the same age as when I first saw him, about 13 or so. He came to rest on a branch above my head and looked right down at me. I looked right back at him. A slow, cocky grin made its way across his face and he stood on his branch and bowed. I rose slowly and curtsied as well as I could in my jeans.

"I am Peter Pan!" he announced proudly. I hid a smile.

"Hello Peter. I am Ashling Underwood." I am now 20 years old. But flying, Neverland and pirates had never left my dreams. Peter looked like he was about to say something else when a voice called across the park,

"Ash!!"

I turned and saw my motley crew of friends making their way across the park towards me and Peter. I looked back at the tree and wasn't surprised to see Peter and Tink had gone. I sat down hard, still processing what had happened. Finn was with my mates and saw immediately that something was up but was wise enough not to ask until we were alone. When I told him he was absolutely gutted that he wasn't there with me. I just grinned, gave him a kiss and said,

"Maybe next time, Finny." He hates that nickname. Makes me laugh every time.

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I was properly grown up when me and Finn saw Peter next. We had gotten married eventually, after going round the world together and getting our careers under way. We figured that we had put up with each other for so long that we might as well make it a life commitment. That and I loved him to pieces and couldn't live without him. We bought a tiny old stone cottage in the country that was surrounded by trees and covered in creepers. I loved it. Our first baby was lying, giggling in her cot while me and Finn looked on lovingly with stars in our eyes. I couldn't believe we had made something so perfect and beautiful. We called her Rose. It was a warm spring day, not a cloud in the sky. Like I had all those years ago, Rose was reaching up to try and catch the sparkles made by the sun as it shone through the trees outside her window. I'm not sure what made me look up, but I did and there he was, hovering around the tree. I grasped Finn's hand, and he looked up in surprise that quickly turned to elation as he saw Peter. He was still clad in nothing but green leaves and still had the greenest eyes I have ever seen.

"Hello Peter," I called softly.

"Hello," he said, flying slowly a little bit closer.

"This is my baby, Rose. This is Finn."

Peter bowed a charming little bow in mid air, which Finn returned from the ground. Peter flew a little closer and frowned.

"You're grown up. You look different."

"Well, it has been a while, Peter."

My hair was long instead of the choppy short cut I had worn when I was younger, and my clothes were a little different now too. Still wore my trusty Chuck Taylors, however. Peter came closer still, looking down at Rose now from the other side of the open window. Rose giggled and gurgled and reached out and grabbed onto his finger. Peter's cocky grin flashed over his face. It was then I realised that Peter didn't have Tinkerbell with him.

"Peter, where is Tinkerbell?"

He frowned in confusion as if trying to remember, then shrugged.

"She is a fairy. They do not live as long as long as we do in the Neverland."

I was shocked at the casualness of his statement and looked at Finn, who looked a little less so. It was then I remembered that he had an appalling memory, as the Neverland makes you forget things. Finn looked like he was going to say something when a car came tearing down the dirt road next to our property. Peter leapt into the air and into the cover of the tree before we could so much as blink, and was gone. Rose began to cry. Finn picked her up and began to rock her. I reached into the right pocket of my jeans and took out the acorn I had grabbed long ago when I was Rose's age and gave it to her. She stopped crying. Finn looked over at me. He looked so dazed I had to laugh. Then I couldn't stop and he ended up laughing at me. In the end Rose started giggling in that special way only babies can and we all ending up on the floor in helpless laughter.

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I am almost an old woman now. I have not seen Peter Pan since that spring day with baby Rose. Who now has children of her own, twins that me and Finn are looking after for the weekend. Lochlann and Sora, reckless ten year olds that create havoc wherever they go. We love them to pieces. At the moment they are playing a loud and boisterous game of pirates and Indians in our back garden while we sit on the deck in the sunshine. A movement in the bushes close to where the twins are playing catches my eye. Could it be....? It is. I grab Finn's hand and point. He breathes in sharply. We stay completely still as Peter comes out of the bushes and talks with our grandchildren. They don't look surprised. I suppose they wouldn't be, we've all told them of our glimpses and encounters with Peter Pan. He has another fairy; she's flitting round his head never still for a moment. They suddenly look our way and see us watching them. Lochlann and Sora run up the garden and tumble onto the deck, eyes shining,

"Gran!! Grandpa!! It's Peter Pan!! Like you always said!!" They burst out in unison,  
"He wants us to come to the Neverland with him!! Can we go, please, please, please??!!"

I shook my head. Rosie would never forgive if I let the twins go. We may never see them again.

"If you fly away to the Never Never Land, you may never come back. It makes you forget, you remember the story. Your mum would miss you very much and would never forgive me for letting you go. I'm sorry."

They look absolutely heartbroken. And I don't blame them. They go slowly back down the yard to tell Peter only to find that he was gone. Sora is in tears, poor girl. Lochlann isn't far off either.

"You remember all the times we've told you about seeing Peter Pan?"

They nodded.

"I am pretty sure you will be seeing him again someday. So don't cry Sora darling. Come give me a hug." Both the twins wrap their arms around me. I smile at Finn over their shoulders. I knew I would see him again.

_The End_

Reviews would be fantastic. :).


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